Page:Maud Howe - A Newport Aquarelle.djvu/136

 "Yes. It was awfully soft of me to faint in that way; I am thoroughly ashamed of my self. Do you despise me for it?"

"No. After you had saved me you had a right to be terrified. Had you been frightened before, I should not have been here now. Are you glad you saved me?"

"Do you not know—"

"Oh yes, of course I know," said the girl hastily, interrupting his vehemence; "and I am glad, too."

She turned and looked at the place where she had so lately stood in mortal danger. Everything was peaceful and quiet now. The cool plash of the water came to her ears, and the tender song of a wild bird fell like a triumphant hymn of praise upon the stillness of the day.

"It is good to live," said the song of the bird.

"It is enough to be a little part of such a world," sighed the girl. "Why cannot we forget ourselves and our petty ambitions,